


A Normal Morning

by Blackpearl



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Children, Drabble, Fluff, M/M, Nonsense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-22
Updated: 2012-06-22
Packaged: 2017-11-08 07:34:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/440771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackpearl/pseuds/Blackpearl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A snapshot of various different normal mornings in Sherlock and John's life. Following on from 'On Marriage', 'Normality' and 'Children', but can be read alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Normal Morning

**Author's Note:**

> Yay, I'm on a roll today! Just another reminder that I'm searching for a beta-reader so let me know if you're interested :)
> 
> BP x

In the past, a normal morning at 221B Baker Street had consisted of John, half asleep, padding downstairs into the kitchen and switching the kettle on to make a cup of tea. Sherlock was usually already up, out, or still asleep in his own room. Their life was manic at times, especially when they were on a case, but it was relatively peaceful. 

After Sherlock and John got married, a normal morning was waking up together, enjoying a few minutes of snuggling or maybe some lazy morning sex, followed by a shower (sometimes together), breakfast and then a day of work. 

After being blessed with a child in the form of Isabelle, mornings were a mixture of intimate moments and trying to get a very reluctant child to eat her breakfast. Not that they would change anything though; in their eyes, life was perfect. 

Five years after Isabelle was born brings us to the present day. Now, a normal morning at 221B Baker Street is absolute chaos, mostly because Sherlock and John now have three children. When Isabelle was three they decided that they wanted another child, but they were not expecting for Susie to become pregnant with twins. So now, the mornings are filled with mad rushes to shower and get dressed, dress a five year old girl in clothes that she actually likes, dress wriggly two-year old twin boys who look like the spitting image of John, and then feed them all. 

*

Greg Lestrade pulled up outside 221B Baker Street and quickly parked his car. He had a new case and desperately needed Sherlock’s help, but the consulting detective was not answering his phone. He knocked on the door and was let in by Mrs Hudson before quickly making his way up to Sherlock and John’s flat. He pushed open the door and stepped inside. 

“Oh, hello Greg.” John greeted him cheerfully from the living room where he sat in his armchair with one of the twins on his lap. “Hamish, stop pulling at my shirt.”

“Morning, John. Is Sherlock around?” Lestrade took a seat in the other armchair. 

“Yeah he’s just in the bathroom trying to get Jasper to clean his teeth. Nightmare toddler that one, I’ll tell you…” 

Lestrade smiled wryly. “I’ve got a case for him. He’ll like this one.” 

“Just as well I’m not at work today, otherwise we would have needed a babysitter,” John smiled. 

Sherlock entered the living room with Jasper in his arms and Izzy attached to his leg. “Hello Lestrade, a case, I assume?” 

“Yes, I’ll tell you about it on the way there.” He was instantly pounced on by Izzy, who excitedly began telling ‘Uncle Greg’ all about her nursery. 

Sherlock smiled to himself and grabbed his coat and shoes. He managed to put them on before the twins were crawling all over him again. “Alright boys, I’ve got to go to work. Be good for daddy.” He kissed them both goodbye, then scooped up Izzy and repeated the process with her. Finally, he leant over to kiss his husband, before leaving the flat. 

“You’ve changed so much, Sherlock,” Lestrade commented as they climbed into his car.

“Yes, getting married and having kids does that,” he replied. 

“I didn’t mean it was a bad thing.” 

“Yes Lestrade, I know. Now, the case?” 

On second thoughts, perhaps nothing had changed at all.


End file.
